


I've Got a Fascination (With Your Presentation)

by Jackdaw816



Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Genderbending, Hair Braiding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26565808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackdaw816/pseuds/Jackdaw816
Summary: One day, Owen will learn not to press random buttons
Relationships: Owen Harper/Toshiko Sato
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17
Collections: Torchwood Fan Fests: Bingo Fest 2020





	I've Got a Fascination (With Your Presentation)

**Author's Note:**

> Towen is not my forte, but I gave it a shot! Also, I'm not a huge fan of genderbend, so I took some liberties. Unedited and so I apologize for any errors
> 
> Squares filled: Grooming/bathing, genderbend

“Jack? We’ve got a minor problem. No, I don’t think it’s urgent, it’s just that Owen touched a button on that machine you said was a Tessan-” Tosh flinched as Jack all but shouted into the receiver. “Which button?” She covered the mic of her mobile and leaned over toward Owen. “Which button did you press?”

“The purple one,” Owen said grumpily. He was trying and failing to tuck his now shoulder-length hair behind his ears. He spat strands out of his mouth and pouted. Tosh stifled a smile as she relayed the information to Jack.

“Three hours? So if it isn’t reversed by the time you and the others get back, I should worry? Got it. I’ll keep an eye on him, you don’t have to hurry back. Bye.” Tosh hung up the mobile. “Congratulations, Owen, Jack says you are now the standard of a ravishing Tessan female.” Owen glared at her.

“Female?” he questioned. He gestured to his chest and groin. “Do I look female to you?” Tosh blushed lightly and shook her head.

“Apparently, the only difference between male and female Tessans is hair length, and that machine you touched is designed to help Tessans who want to change temporarily,” Tosh said, eyes glimmering. Owen sighed.

“So it’ll go back to normal in three hours?” he asked. Tosh nodded again. “Great. How am I supposed to work like this?” He flipped his hair dramatically and frowned as it fell back into his face. Tosh started to rummage through her purse and emerged triumphantly with a hair tie.

“I could braid it back,” Tosh suggested. Owen gave her a look and she tried not to shrink under his gaze. “It’ll keep it out of your way.” Owen glared poutily.

“We’re not twelve-year-olds at a sleepover, Tosh,” he protested. “I’ll just go steal Jack’s razor and hack it off.” Before Tosh could respond, he stormed off in a huff. Tosh sighed lightly and set the hair tie down on her desk.

Ten minutes later, Owen stormed back into the Hub. He had a pair of scissors in one hand and a good-sized chunk of hair in the other. But instead of his hair being short and messy (and cute) again, it was now down to his waist.

“Turns out you can’t just cut it off,” Owen spat, throwing the cut hair on the floor in front of him. He dropped the scissors on a desk and crossed his arms. “And I’d rather not be Rapunzel. So give me the hair tie.” Tosh stood, smiling slightly.

“I think Gwen keeps a brush in her desk,” Tosh said, moving to check. Owen sat in Tosh’s chair, still pouting. Tosh managed to find the brush and made her way back over. 

“I can do it,” Owen said, reaching for the brush and hair tie. “I don’t want to take up your time.” Tosh smiled gently as she dragged another chair over.

“I really don’t mind; it’s been a slow day anyway,” Tosh said, straddling the chair behind Owen. “That’s why I was messing with the Tessan tress transmogrifier.”

“Is that really what it’s called?” Owen said, crossing his arms and leaning against the back of his chair.

“Ianto named it,” Tosh replied. Owen made a little ‘ah’ noise then fell silent. Tosh picked up the brush and started to card through Owen’s hair with even strokes. It was surprisingly straight and felt almost silken under her fingertips. It was alien after all, she supposed.

She reached up to Owen’s scalp and felt for where his hair met the extensions. It was faint, but she could feel the coarseness of the real hair below the fake.

“If you’re done feeling me up?” Owen said, tone caustic and uncomfortable. Tosh blushed and pulled her hands back.

“Sorry. It’s just fascinating,” Tosh said. And it really was. Were there follicles where the alien hair met Owen? Was that how it had grown back when Owen cut it? And why had it grown back? Was it a failsafe against bigoted Tessans who would try to cut their hair? Tosh’s train of thought was cut off by Owen snapping his fingers.

“Geek out on your own time,” Owen said, sounding the slightest bit apologetic. “I’ve got a Weevil to autopsy.”

“Right,” Tosh said, slipping the hair tie onto her wrist. “Is that the one Jack shot?” she asked conversationally as she parted Owen’s hair into three even sections.

“Nah, it’s the one tea-boy bludgeoned with a wood plank.” Tosh flinched, but Owen chuckled lightly. “You didn’t hear it from me, but he’s got a lot of anger bottled up under that neat suit-and-tie.” Tosh frowned slightly, remembering what she’d heard in Ianto’s head. He’d been so sad, but it was often that sadness and anger came hand in hand.

“He really does,” she said, fingers deftly weaving. “But Jack’s good for him.” Owen laughed again, and Tosh’d be lying if she didn’t say it sounded bitter.

“He’s good for Jack,” Owen remarked, then fell silent. Tosh got the feeling that he would need to be far drunker to properly admit concern for their coworkers. “Ow!” Owen yelped as Tosh accidentally pulled a little too hard.

“Sorry,” she apologized, slowing her hands. It’d had been a while since she’d braided someone else’s hair. Had it been Gwen, that one drunk night out at the pub? Or further back, before she’d even known Torchwood existed? Tosh forced her mind back to the present. She was here, she was safe, and Owen was so close she could touch him. And she was.

Braid completed, she secured it with the hair tie, then pulled her hands back. Success! And it looked rather charming.

“Alright, I’m done,” Tosh said, standing up and pulling her chair away from him. Owen made a vague, but appreciative noise and stood as well. He caught sight of himself in one of Tosh’s monitors and made a face Tosh couldn’t discern. He grabbed the tip of the braid and pulled it to the front, taking in Tosh’s handiwork. Tosh found herself holding her breath, then scolded herself. It didn’t matter, not really.

“It’ll do,” Owen said finally. He pushed her chair back in, then turned toward her, smiling faintly. “Thanks, Tosh.” He kissed her cheek, then bounded off for the autopsy bay. Tosh blushed slightly watching him go. And then she pulled out her mobile and snapped a picture. Jack would want to see this.


End file.
